


Family

by DeQuidt



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 10:54:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8325043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeQuidt/pseuds/DeQuidt
Summary: [Branch-chief--Faba on Tumblr]Monsters aren't made. They are created.





	

The woman held a small bundle of blankets close to her chest. She looked at it with a careful smile. The room illuminated by the small strip of light that managed to enter through the not fully closed curtains. It was a modest hospital room. She was happy that she had a room of her own this time. With her other children she had to share the room with other new mothers and fathers but this time she had a room for herself.

She was a rather plump woman. Her round face hid her age. Though her greying hairs revealed the secret her face tried to keep. She wasn’t a young woman anymore and this wasn’t her first child. It was her ninth. Again she had given birth to a boy. Which still meant that she now had to share her home with ten boys, her husband included.

Her husband was with her. He stood there. Silently. Peeking through the small slit in the curtains. His back turned towards her. He looked older than she was, even though they only were one year apart in age, he was short but stout.

The baby cooed in his mother’s arms. Trying to move his little arms but the green blanket prevented him from moving much. The noise the small babe made, made the father turn around and face the mother and child.

“So once again. You are sure it’s mine.?” The male spoke.

“Him, Urad.” She corrected him. “And yes. Don’t you try to insinuate things.” Even though her words were powerful her voice was soft almost like she hated to disagree with her husband on this.

“Then why, Pinto?” He walked over to the bed and sat at the foot of it. “Why does it look like this?” Urad still refused to call the baby ‘he’.

Pinto stuttered to find words. “I don’t know, love.. The doctors said he’s perfectly healthy.” She looked at her child again. He was born perfectly on time. Exactly on the due date. Still he was frail and skinny. His skin was abnormally pale. He was small and rarely made noise. She had only heard him cry once and that was right after he was born. As soon as the nurses placed him in her arms he had stopped. Only making small noises since. No screaming, no crying, nothing. Normally this would sound like every parents dream but Pinto already had eight boys. She found it abnormal that this one kept quiet. She decided to go with that. She found her babe abnormal. It wasn’t like she didn’t care for it. She did but it’s behavior was abnormal. She didn’t realize that she too, called her boy ‘it’ in her own thoughts.

“So, now what?” Urad’s voice brought her back to reality.

“We take it- him home.” She felt her face flush as he realized her slipup. “Nothing’s changed.”

They told their other sons that there was no way they would be coming to the hospital. Not only was such a task almost impossible to orchestrate. It would clash with one of their family traditions: They would only reveal their child on the 150th day after it was born. It was Urad’s family tradition. Pinto didn’t question it. Her husband asked so little of her. It was the least she could do. The only people who were allowed to see the baby before the 150th day were the doctors involved, it’s parents and it’s brothers and/or sisters. If the other boys needed to go to the hospital they would’ve have to asked others to help. Which the tradition made impossible.

The trio was allowed to leave the next morning. The doctors wanted that the child would spend one night here. “Just to be save.” They’d said. Pinto knew that they too, found something off with the child. Pinto was given careful instructions to feed her son using a schedule. The child still hadn’t cried even in situations where babies usually cry. Like when they were hungry or needed changing. No, not her child. Her child remained perfectly quiet. Content as he was held by his mother. Even when she put him down in his own little bed at the hospital he would remain quiet. His tiny hands balled into fists. She had woken up that night in the hospital and had tried to get a reaction out of her son. Softly poking his cheek or removing his blanket. Carefully keeping an eye on him but nothing. So she put the blanket back on him and went back to bed herself. Barely getting any sleep.

They lived in a small home. Every inch of every room was occupied. The baby would later get a bed in a room he had to share with his brothers but for now his crib was next to his parent’s bed. They lived near a forest so there were no neighbors to complain about the noise this family could make. This was intentional. Not only had the boys room to play in the nature surrounding their home. This way Urad and Pinto didn’t have to worry about having to keep apologizing to the neighbors. When they came home the boys immediately swarmed around them, eagerly wanting to see their new family member. Their grandparents had kept an eye on them but had left before the parents came home to honor the tradition.

“I wanna see.” They weren’t long enough to reach their mother’s arms yet. She held the bundle of blankets close to her, careful not to drop him while she tried to move to her sea of sons. “Careful now..” She managed to push through and walked to her own bedroom, carefully placing her child in his crib so her other sons could meet their new brother.

They all felt unusually silent when they got to see him.

“Mom, is he sick?” Her oldest asked.

“No, dear. He’s perfectly healthy.”

“Then why does he look like that?”

“I don’t know. Most babies aren’t cute.”

“Nuh-uh that isn’t true. My teacher had a baby and everyone said that she was cute!!” Others agreed with him. They had all seen that baby and they all agreed that she was cute.

“Then our brother is just ugly!” The youngest decided.

“Yeah! Mom and dad just ran out of beauty and now he is like he is!” A different one added.

They all started to laugh and Pinto, not knowing if she should scold them or not, let them. Feeling something that was seeded deep in her stomach when she couldn’t get a reaction out of her son last night grow.

The days grew by and the brothers found their new family member oddly entertaining. They would place items on him. Poke him, yell at him or tried other things to get a reaction. They would do this carefully so that their mother didn’t see. Their father found the games entertaining and only stopped when his face shot him a look.

“What?” He asked her sheepishly.

“For the love-.. He’s your son, Urad.” As she tried to wipe some crayon of her baby’s cheek. “Would it kill you to actually pick him up every now and again?” This was true. Urad had not once touched his new born son.

“If whatever he has is contagious, it might.” He chuckled at his own comment. “Hey, I’m sorry!” He added when he saw his wife’s reaction. “I’m sorry.” He stood up from where he was sitting and threw his arms around her. “Don’t cry..” He felt terrible now. “Hey, maybe he grows out of it! No one looks like they did when they were a baby. We might have a young model here!” He tried to cheer her up.

She sniffled in his arms. “I don’t know. Nothing I try seems to work.” He pulled his wife closer and whispered that it will be okay. Eventually it would be okay.

Eventually the day of the 150th celebration was here. With the other children the room was filled with ‘oohs’s and ‘aah’s’ but this time it was filled with an uncomfortable silence. The child had barely grown and was still quiet. Though now he had his emerald green eyes open for most of the time and smiled at the things that were happening around him. He was safely placed in his mother’s arms. His little hands slowly opening and closing.

“Everyone..” Urad began to speak. “We’d all like you to meet our new… son.” He hesitated before saying son and it was obvious. He took the child from it’s mother’s arms. Both shocking the babe itself and the mother. He held it up under it’s armpits. “This is Faba. He will be our last son. We see him as a message to not have any more children. If this one looks like this. Who knows what the next one will look like.” He returned him to his mother as the guests laughed at his comment. He then addressed his son. “Well, Faba. Good luck to you. You’re going to need it.”

Years passed and Faba started to grow. He was still very small when he entered preschool. His teacher’s loved him. He always did as he was told and on top of that he was quiet. His classmates shunned him. Not knowing what to do with the small green-eyed boy that look like he could break any minute. Faba didn’t mind. He enjoyed being alone.

When he went to elementary school he made a friend. The boy was slightly older than he was; being held back a year. Faba never asked why. In fact, they never spoke. It was one of the best friends he had. They were both exiled from the group because they looked different. Faba with his skinny and small frame and the other boy for his big milky grey eyes. Faba decided that that made them friends by proxy. The other boy never objected. They would spend their breaks together. Silently sitting on a bench. Never exchanging a word. When they had to make groups they would always partner up together. Never speaking but always knowing what they wanted from each other. Faba would always try and smile at the other boy. The other boy never changed his expression.

He moved away when it was time to go to middle school. Leaving Faba alone once more.

“Are you going to miss your friend, dear?” His mother asked when she picked him up after the last day of school. “Oh, I could ask his mother! We can maybe make it so you can still see him.”

“No.” Faba told his mother. “No.”

“But, he’s your friend.. don’t you want to keep in touch?” She tried again.

“No.”

She sighed at her boy as she ran her hand through his light and thin hair. She had become used to this. Faba never liked social events. His birthdays were easy. He never wanted to go anywhere. He would much rather stay at home and read. He would take advantage of his build so he could hide in cabinets and other small spaces so that he could read in peace. She was glad when she finally found something he actually liked. Though she found it odd that someone at that age would have such interest in medicine and medical procedures she’d let him. She managed to get books about the subject at book fairs and from colleagues. All of the trouble was worth it when he would look up to her and thanked her with joy in his eyes.

The vacation between him going to middle school and him leaving elementary was hell for her. She was terrified of what they would do to him there. At the elementary she spoke with all the parents. Assuring that her son was a good kid but needed some instructions to work with. The other parents understood and told their children about Faba. They reacted by not interacting with him at all. Which was fine by Faba, but not by her. She would love it if he’d made some friends beside that other kid that wigged her out. For him, she was sad that the other boy moved but for herself she was glad. Hoping that Faba would at least try to make new friends.

During this vacation Faba started to grow. His body remained slender but now he was tall. Almost as tall as his oldest brother who would leave for college soon. It was troublesome. This family got by with hand-me-downs but Faba was becoming to tall. She managed by getting a lot of second handed items from family and friends but nothing really fitted her son. He always wore something that was too big or slightly too small. This did his frame no wonders. He looked even more pathetic than he did before. To top it all of he needed glasses. Thick and round ones. Faba loved his new optical wear but Pinto felt her heart sink every time she looked at him. So the night before school started again she’d call her older boys with her.

“Listen, I want you to keep an eye out for Faba, okay?”

They all made a fist and touched there forehead with their thumb. The last person to do this would have do the thing they needed to do. They did this when they needed to do chores too.

“I don’t want to do this..” a voice whined. “I want a redo.”

“Vicia, that’s your brother you’re talking about.” His mother told him sternly.

“I know, but he looks and acts like a freak. He’s creepy. He has no friends. He doesn’t even hang out with us! I don’t want him near me.” Vicia started to defend himself.

This was true. Faba tried to never interact with his brothers. They were loud and annoying and they made him feel bad. They would call him names or steal his belongings. Which they would hide in places he couldn’t reach. First at places that he was to small for but after his growth places that he didn’t fit in anymore. They would blame him for stuff, knowing he wouldn’t defend himself anyway. Or, and this was their personal favorite, they would make him do the chores and work around the house.

“Are you doing something, Fababy?”

“Reading.”

“Okay, well I’m going out with friends. So can you do my work for me today? Also I already told mom you would so if you don’t she will scold you bye.”

So he would close his book and do what he was told. They never actually told anyone he would do it but they knew Faba just accepted things the way they were and never actually asked their mother if he should do it.

Pinto cupped Vicia’s face in her hands. “Please. For me.” Her voice sounded desperate. Vicia filled his cheeks with air and pouted. “Fine.”

That night Vicia crept into the room Faba was sleeping in and gave him slap in the face to wake him up.

“Hey, Vicia.” Faba answered. Not even acknowledging the slap. Vicia felt a shiver run down his spine. “Listen.” He hissed at his taller but younger brother. “Mom told me to keep an eye out for you but I kinda don’t want to. I’ve got a good thing going at that school and you would totally kill that. By the way buddy, have you killed before? You look like a killer.” That was Vicia’s flaw; he was too distracted by everything. “Don’t answer that, I don’t want to know. Though I do find it creepy that grandma died when you were in the room alone with her. Got my eye on you, okay?” He poked at Faba randomly in the dark. Not knowing what he touched. “So I need you to stay away from me and tell mom I did protect you when she asks, okay? Do not come near me. Do not make eye contact. We don’t know each other. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“See, there’s a good boy!” Faba let out a shiver. “Well, won’t see ya tomorrow.” His brother jumped to his feet and left.

Faba did as he was told. Staying away from his brother. He fell in love with the library. Spending a lot of time there. Avoiding most people. This was fine by him. The first few months went well.

Until he got accidently got in Vicia’s way. It was getting colder. Faba could smell the snow in the air. A smell he secretly loved. He was alone in the library. He was allowed to do that. Gladys, who was in charge of the library, trusted him enough to leave him alone. He walked over to one of the windows and cracked it open. Letting the cold air in. He figured it would be okay since he was alone and he would make sure to close it when he would leave. He took a big whiff of the winter air but instead of his beloved scent he smelled cigarette smoke.

His parents despised cigarettes. Having both lost loved ones to the ails that came with it. He rubbed the fog of the window to see who was the owner of the cigarette. Smoking was prohibited on school grounds and he hated rules being broken. To his surprise he saw his own brother there.

“Vicia?” He said louder than he meant to and momentarily forgot that he had opened the window. Vicia jerked his head towards the window and swore. “Fuck.. You’re not going to tell on me, are you, Fababy?” His friends snickered at nickname.

“Mom will be angry.”

“Mom will be angry.” Vicia repeated what he said mockingly. “Keep quiet about it.”

“No.”

“Faba, I swear..”

“You can’t lie, Vicia. It’s bad behavior.”

“Dude, your brother is such a pussy, fuck.” One of Vicia’s friends remarked. “Didn’t you say he killed your grandma?” They all laughed like it was a clever joke.

“No I didn’t.” Faba answered the rhetorical question that wasn’t even aimed at him.

“How old is he anyway?” The only female of the group asked. “25?”

“I’m 12.” Faba answered.

“Shit. You age like an avocado do you.”

“Avocado’s ripe.. they do not age.” Faba corrected her.

Again the group erupted in laughter.

Vicia walked towards the window and spoke. “Fababy, you speak one word about this and I will end you. Do you understand?” Faba scoffed and instead of replying closed the window with a loud bang.

He heard his brother yell something at him but he ignored it and went back to the book he was reading.

When he got home later that evening his mother and father were sitting at the kitchen table.

“I need to tell you something.” He started.

“We already know.” His father said bluntly.

“Vicia told..?” He couldn’t believe it. He was glad his brother had done the right thing.

“How could you make your own mother cry like that..?” His father asked.

“Huh..”

“Seriously. You told people you were 25 to buy cigarettes? What is wrong with you boy?”

“I..”

“Don’t try. We called the shop owner and he confirmed Vicia’s story.”

Faba’s eyes moved to Vicia who now stood in the door opening, smiling smugly as he gave him two thumbs up before turning away.

His mother stood up and put both her hands on his shoulders. She was shorter than he was. A thing that would become even more so over the years. He saw that she had tears in her eyes. “Mom, I..” His sentence was cut short by her slapping him on the cheek. “Why are you like this? I don’t get you. You freak me out. You never show any emotion. You just smile. You don’t have any friends. You don’t bond with your brothers. What is wrong with you!?” She put her head against his chest, sobbing into it. “I can’t do this anymore..” Her voice was interrupted by sobs. “I’ve been trying but I can’t do this anymore.” His father stood up and took his wife by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “Just..” He didn’t even finish. He just let his wife out of the kitchen. Leaving Faba there alone and confused. In reality he knew this day would come. He knew that his mother’s love was a façade. He knew that he was difficult and hard to read. He tried so hard to smile all the time so people thought he would be happy and now it all fell apart. He went outside for a walk. Not coming home for dinner. Not sure if he would be invited. He returned hours later. Tired and hungry. He entered their home through the back door and saw most of his family sitting there. Vicia shot him a smile and the others looked away or looked at him with disdain.

He nodded his head as a form of apology and walked upstairs.

“So we can just agree that he killed grandma now, right?” A discussion started downstairs. He closed the door to the bathroom to not hear them anymore.

He looked at himself in the large mirror. He took his oversized shirt off and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked at himself from every angle. He looked nothing like any of his family. His eyes were green, while they either had blue or gray eyes. His hair was thin and light, theirs was thick and dark. They were either short or average. He was tall. To an outsider he might looked adopted but he knew he wasn’t. He looked at his slender frame and decided that he kind of looked like a snake. Suddenly a wave of anger engulfed him as he punched the mirror, cracking it. Silver splinters mixing with blood on the white tiles. He pulled his hand back. Looking at it again. His pale skin got mixed with red blood that flooded out him. He listened to the dripping sound it made as it hit the floor. He ran his unharmed hand over the wound, getting his fingers slick and red with blood. Eventually he grabbed a wad of toilet paper and dabbed up the blood. He cleaned the wound as best that he could and then went downstairs to get a bucket and a bag to clean up the mess.

“I broke the mirror.” He stated since no one asked.

“Told you he would do it eventually. You own me a drink. A fancy drink from that coffee place!” One of his brothers spoke with delight in his voice.

When he got the items he was looking for he went back upstairs. Silently hoping that his mother would follow him. Put her warm arms around him and tell him it’s alright. That it would be okay. Tomorrow they would buy a new one and it will be all okay. When he closed the bathroom door behind him again and realized that no-one came he did something he never did before. He let his back lean against the door and softly slide down. He felt the tears burning behind his eyes before he completely broke down crying. First into his hands, then just on the floor, feeling the cold tiles against his cheek. He cried for what felt like hours until he heard a bang on the door. He jumped up and opened it. Not realizing that he should’ve cleaned his face first.

“Wow. You look actually even worse than before. A new world record for sure.” He was told before being pushed out of the bathroom. “Oh, for the love- Why didn’t you clean this up yet, jeez? Whatever, I work around it. Just clean it up when everyone has gone to bed. You fucking failure.”

When he went back to school the whole attitude of the students had changed. There where people who came to him asking if he could fix them some drinks or smokes. He always told them politely to go away. He avoided his brother. He left so early in the morning that his family was still asleep. He returned late in the evening. His mother left him a plate of food everyday. For which he was grateful. He would sometimes try to thank her but she would just tell him to stop.

“Hey, aren’t you curious on how I did it?” A familiar voice spoke to him a few weeks later when he was reading in the library. As usual he was alone. It was Vicia. “You see, I knew I couldn’t trust you.. You goody-two-shoes-you. So I just had to shift the blame on you.”

“That shopkeeper your parents called. Totally my brother.” One of Vicia’s friends added. “Flawless.” He added.

“Guys, guess what Fababy did though.. he made his own, and my own, mother cry.” Vicia’s crew let out a fake gasp. “No!” They yelped out with fake shock. “Vicia, I think you should teach your brother some manners.” One of them said. “I agree.” Vicia nodded thoughtfully. “What more can I take from you.. dear brother? Oh!” He slipped his finger in a spine of a book and let it drop to the floor. “Books. Things you enjoy more than human contact.” He dropped another one. His friends following his example. “See, Fababy. I told you I would end you should you speak. You were planning to speak. Which is enough for me and now I will end you. You’re the only one who is allowed here when this stupid place closes. So.” He snapped his fingers and Faba could only watch as they destroyed several books. Ripping their pages out, bending their spines and setting some on fire in a trashcan. Faba didn’t want to fight back. He would lose. So he watched his only safe spot literally get destroyed.

He arrived early at school the next day and received his punishment. He needed to repay the damage that ‘he’ did and he was no longer allowed to be there on his own. He helped by cleaning up the school and putting a lot of free time in other jobs they gave him. It took him till high school to pay for all the damage.

The high schoolers didn’t even gave him a change. By now he was at his full height. He was 6.5 feet tall and learned to walk with a hunch so he looked smaller. His eyes looked droopy like he was permanently sad. His teeth were sharp. His fingers long and boney and his entire frame was slender. He was very much underweight. It was from the stress at home. He would still be fed but they treated him like a houseguest. His brothers would completely ignore him, as did his parents. They expected him to leave when he would turn 18 and that was fine by him.

Rumors that started in middle school had graduated with him to high school.

“I heard he killed someone.”

“He looks like a murderer. Creepy.”

“Frankstein is back, careful he might make another monster.”

“I heard that if you say his name three times he will show up and kill you.”

“He looks like one of those creepy loners who get off by torturing innocent people and animals.”

Faba didn’t even hear them anymore. He went to school early. Attended classes. Wander around for a bit and then he went home. He ate what was left and went to bed. That was his routine.

The only fun part of his week was biology. He loved learning about the human body and how natured worked. When he learned that they were going to dissect something. He was excited. He was against cruelty but the teacher assured him that the frog they will be working on was dead and that it was needed to better understand how a body works.

“Now this is delicate stuff. Be careful and listen to what I have to say.” The teacher showed how they were supposed to go to work and when he was finished he told them that they should try but to be careful.

After a few minutes Faba walked over to the teacher who was doing something at his desk.

“Yes? Do you need help?

“I’m done.”

“What..”

“I said I’ve done as you asked and as such am done with the task you assigned me.”

The teacher raised a brow. “Show me.” He asked Faba.

Faba walked back to his workspace and showed the teacher his work.

“I.. how..” The teacher stammered while looking at Faba’s work. It was flawless. At parts it was better than his own example. “Stay after class, will you?”

The other students whispered amongst each other. Looking at the perfectly dissected frog, to Faba to the teacher. “I hope teach calls the cops..” The teacher hushed them and told them to go back to work. Leaving Faba standing near his dead companion. Not sure what he should. So he stood there for the remainder of class. Looking at the pathetic creature as it lay on it’s back”

“Thank you for staying.” The teacher said to him after he ushered the others out. “You’re not in trouble.” He added.

Faba was sitting down but was almost taller than his senior. “I think you have potential. To do something in this field, you know? What do you want to do?”

“I hope to be a doctor one day.” Faba said.

“I think you’d be great at that.” His teacher replied.

“You should look into some places. If you work hard I’m willing to give you my recommendation but if your work stays this perfect then I see a great doctor before me.”

Faba smiled at the other man. A genuine smile.

“Happiness looks good on you!” The older male spoke.

Faba started to hang out with his teacher more often. Helping him clean up his class and asking him stuff he wished to know. True to his word his teacher did recommend him. Money would be problematic but it was fixed through a series of loans. When Faba graduated high school he immediately moved to his college campus. People shot him a weird look at first but they had a common interest: medicine. For the first time in his life he started to make friends. He even started to attend social outings. He was truly happy and couldn’t wait to start being a doctor.

Of course that never happened.

After he was done working for the criminal organization that was led by his former mentor at the hospital he moved away. Far far away.

As the plane took off he took out a small piece of paper out his pocket. It was yellowed and worn. He folded it open and began to read it.

‘If I was allowed to go anywhere I would..” was typed out then in different hand writing it read:

‘I would go to an island far far away. Where the sun always shines and the people are upbeat and happy. At that place no one knows me. There is no mother. No father. No brothers. Just me.

Those people would treat me with kindness and not assume I’m the worst. They would not spread lies about me but welcome me. I would be the best doctor around and help every one who needed my help. I would want to be their friend and they would want to be mine. We could be friends together. The real me is not real there. My old me is dead there. There I can be who I’m supposed to be. There I would be home.

\- Faba, aged 12’


End file.
